Anything
by KeepCounting
Summary: --"Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's. Because he loved her for nearly all of his life." A tragic love story. Oneshot


_I was inspired to do a piece about Snape and his love for Lily when I re-read some of the last book. So this has SPOILERS all over. _

_The characters and quotes belong to Rowling. I own nothing. _

_This is very different from the other HP-oneshots I've made, but I'm hoping to do more like this. Please review and tell me what you think._

_Written while listening to 'Kodoku – Michiru Oshima'._

* * *

**Anything**

"_Hide them all, then. Keep her – them – safe. Please."_

"_And what will you give me in return Severus?"_

"_In… In return?"_

She'd always been soft, to the point of delicate, yet her words were always strong, and it would take an army of hundreds to ever stop her in her stubbornness. When she set a goal she was determined to reach it, only ever stopping on the behalf of others.

He sometimes wondered why she did that, lived her life for others. Lived as thought everyone else was more important than she herself. He almost snorted at the thought: no one could ever be more important than her. But that wasn't how _she_ saw it: he figured, that was who she was, and she could never change it. It was part of what made her after all. Part of who she was, just as much as the flaming red hair and deep green eyes.

Sometimes, her eyes made him a little uneasy. It was as if she could see everything with those eyes, as if she'd somehow been born with the mastery of Occlumency. Sometimes he would forget the true color of the eyes, and then, when she looked at him, he would be rendered speechless because of the sheer green of it. Of course, it was never just one green. The colors swirled, mixed, and became lighter, darker all depending on which mood she was in. It was like a deep, green, swelling ocean, an ocean you could very easily drown in. And he didn't mind, not at all, as long as she would just keep _looking_ at him, as long as she would laugh and smile and talk to him and not care that he was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor. He'd somehow given up on them ever being more than friends. She was too good for him in that aspect. He would never admit that a part of him still hoped, a part of him was still convinced that she belonged to him and no one else. Especially not that stuck-up, prancing idiot of a fool…

She was strong, strong enough to walk against what everyone else thought and stand up to him. But she was delicate enough to break when he spoke those words, hurt her more than anyone ever had before.

_He'd_ hurt her. Not the idiot, not some other fool who didn't see her for what she truly was. _He_ had done it.

And it hadn't mattered that he'd apologized. It hadn't mattered that he didn't mean it, had never meant it and never would. For once, she hadn't had it in her to forgive. For once, she was delicate enough to break and come out strong, putting her foot down. He'd made a mistake he couldn't go back on, and now he would lose her.

It tore him apart, broke something in him he hadn't even known was there in the first place. Like a mirror crashing to the ground, hundreds of sharp edges cutting into him.

And he'd thought that was the word he would feel.

Hadn't it been enough to let the rest of the world suffer? Wouldn't it be enough just to kill the child and get out of there? He didn't care how selfish his thoughts where – the rest of the world didn't matter, as long as she was safe.

But the Dark Lord was ruthless. The Dark Lord didn't care about such trivial things as love.

He would be forever blind to the power that love could give: forever blind to the fact that love could make a traitor change course, could make a Death Eater become a spy, simply for the sake of a Muggle-born girl.

He of all people knew how much love could change you. And burn you.

_Her face was broken into a huge grin, her eyes sparkling. He was watching her from afar, standing in the corner and ignoring everyone else. Especially the idiot, who was holding her arm, smiling at her like a man who'd just seen the sun for the first time. _

"_I did it!" She laughed. "James, I did it!"_

_The patronus in front of them, the silver doe made a shrill of a noise, as if more than happy of its part in her accomplishment. For a moment, he was tempted to create his own, make it run over and stand beside the doe, but something stopped him. Instead, he just stood, watching her, feeling like someone had torn out his heart. _

It hadn't been enough. She'd laid there, amidst the ruins of her house, dead and cold and pale white. He hadn't seen her, but the mental image was enough. It was a nightmare that would forever haunt him.

He'd never felt as much of a failure as he did in that moment, that faithful moment when he'd been told that the Dark Lord had succeeded, that she was death.

And for what? To save her son.

She'd lived her life for others. And now, she'd given her life for the one person she loved most.

_She has his eyes. _

"_Are you going to let Lily Evan's son die?"_

Was he? Or was he going to let the Dark Lord pay for what he had done?

It wasn't even really a choice.

"_I prefer not to put all my secrets in one basket, especially not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort."_

"_Which I do on _**your**_ orders!"_

Of all people, Dumbledore had to be the one that believed most in love. Which was why he was foolish enough to give him the second chance that he didn't deserve.

And still, despite his respect for the man, despite the fact that if anyone could bring down the Dark Lord it was through Dumbledore, he still despised the fact that he was used. From both sides.

"_You have _used_ me! I have spied for you, lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to keep Lily Potter's son safe and now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter…"_

He wouldn't be able to bare see another set of green eyes lose their life, lose the sparkling that always found their way into them. He was Lily's son, no matter if he liked it or not. He couldn't let the boy die.

The snake-bites where almost a revilement after everything else. It didn't hurt even half as much as the memory of her: Lily rejecting him, stating that she would not even have him as friend anymore, simply because he was an idiot who couldn't keep his mouth shut. The breathless wonder of Lucius Malfoy's voice, as he spoke of how a small boy, a baby, had made their Dark Lord lose and had survived himself. But his parents had perished.

Lily had perished.

So the bites of Nagini were an easy pain, a distraction nonetheless, from the heartache and the wounds his soul had obtained during the last couple of years. He hardly even felt them now.

They were close to their goal now, and he'd played his part. All he had to do was make sure that he understood, that he knew truly who his mother had been.

"_Look at me."_

Remembering. It had all been so easy. It had been like the whole thing was _supposed_ to happen like this. Like some sort of hand was guiding them along, writing a script and setting them to play.

The boy had followed the doe, had followed his mother in a search for the Horcrux. Voldemort would never figure out that it was him that had sent it.

"_After all this time Severus?"_

"_Always."_

After all this time? How could he even think that had changed, that it would ever change?

Pictures where starting to get blurry, words and voices flying past his ears. All he saw was the green eyes staring back at him.

One memory came flooding back, clearer and sharper than the others, like a knife cutting through the haze.

"_Keep her safe."_

He'd pleaded, knowing that the possibility of Voldemort listening to him was small. Knowing that Lily would die, and it would all be his fault. And then, calling her 'mudblood' and betraying her would be nothing compared to killing her.

So, what would he give to ensure her safety?

"_Anything."_


End file.
